


Home

by KuraiTsuky



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballet Dancer Kakashi, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Falling In Love, Female Kakashi, Female Obito, Fluff and Angst, Former Ballet Dancer Obito, Getting Together, Panic Attacks, Permanent Injury, Physical Therapy, Rule 63, Supportive Kakashi, Triggers, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, aftermath of a car accident, hints of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiTsuky/pseuds/KuraiTsuky
Summary: “Obito”She hears her name whispered like a prayer and her heart skips a beat.“Kakashi” She manages to choke out before long, pale fingers close around her own tiny wrist and drag her towards a bench. When they sit down, Kakashi’s own coat opens and Obito can see the sliver of a black leotard and short mesh skirt.or, The Ballet Dancer Au no one asked for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if the themes in the story will trigger anyone but I thought it prudent to put a warning in the description.   
> Also, Winter fic in April, yey!

The cool autumn wind lightly brushes her hair, black strands flying loosely around her heart-shaped face. She had intended to cut it short but in the end she’d never managed to. She holds her coat closer, her thin body trembling. Since the accident she’s become much more sensitive to the cold. As she’s readjusting the belt of her coat, someone bumps into her and she has to bit back a pained scream, her bad shoulder flares.

She looks up and finds herself staring into unblinking, surprised dark grey eyes. Grey eyes she recognizes.

“Obito”

She hears her name whispered like a prayer and her heart skips a beat.

“Kakashi” She manages to choke out before long, pale fingers close around her own tiny wrist and drag her towards a bench. When they sit down, Kakashi’s own coat opens and Obito can see the sliver of a black leotard and short mesh skirt. She’s able to feel a pang of jealousy and longing just before Kakashi firmly ties the buttons.

For a moment, Obito is reminded of her own leotard, now rotting in the depths of her closet with the rest of the ballet things she can’t use and won’t even look at anymore. She knows that Kakashi is still in the company, that she’s recently made Prima Ballerina but Obito can’t bring herself to congratulate her. It’s petty and beneath her, even if she did save Kakashi’s life from that oncoming van, but the jealousy still overpowers any feelings of happiness she could have had for her friend.

Is Kakashi still her friend though? They haven’t spoken to each other since she entered physical therapy and it’s been nearly three years since she was discharged. Obito’d like to think they are indeed friends but she’s afraid to even ask.

“So…” Kakashi’s hesitant voice disrupts the silence that, Obito notices, had turned rather uncomfortable “how –how have you been?”

“I’m fine” she hurries to assure, it has become somewhat of a tradition whenever she finds someone who knew her from before.

“I’ve been working on my Uncle’s company for the past two years, the hours are great, and I’m paid quite a lot… I’m –I’m happy” She tells Kakashi, wondering if those words sound as hollow in her maybe friend’s ears as they do in her own. She’s not happy, at all, every day it takes her at least half an hour to be able to walk without a limp, a feat hard to manage late in the afternoon too. She misses dancing like she’s never missed anything before and she’s spent the last three years yearning the most basic human contact –excluding her uncles jibes that are anything but human in her book- because she’s too scared and ashamed to undress in front of someone or even her own mirror. It is true though, that her salary is pretty good, and she does live in the city, but all the money in the world can’t make the scars go away, she knows, she’s tried, nor can her gorgeous apartment make her feel any less lonely.

Kakashi looks inquisitively at her and Obito feels all her layers being peeled away by those deep grey eyes.

“I’m glad” the other woman finally concedes. She doesn’t mention her own job –Obito is grateful for that- and doesn’t make any allusions to the accident either.

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” Kakashi asks and Obito is tempted to lie or perhaps remind her of the time. But she only manages a nod.

Obito numbly follows the other woman, vaguely noticing she still has her wrist trapped into the other’s fingers. Kakashi must have realized that if she runs along –she’d be late for practice anyway- leaving her with the promise of a future encounter or a number, Obito will probably just hide and pretend today never happened. So instead, she’s dragged off to a Starbucks in a corner of the Park and practically force-fed Kakashi’s presence. And yet she can’t manage to be angry at her. Perhaps it’s that out of her immediate family and therapists, the pressure on her forearm is the most human contact she’s had in three years.

God, she wants to shake herself free and run away or maybe break down in Kakashi’s arms, she can’t quite make up her mind.

 

Several days and as many cups of coffee later, meeting Kakashi and sharing beverages has become a normal occurrence. She even wakes up earlier to see the other woman, and she couldn’t care less about her slight loss of sleep.  It brings many memories back, having to get up in time for practice and it still leaves a sour after taste in her mouth the fact that after coffee she still has half an hour free to get to work on the other side of the park.

She looks at Kakashi over the rim of her cup, as always, the ballerina is drinking a cup of green tea with a dash of soy milk and eyeing her apple cream bagel with a look that borders on lust. Obito rolls her eyes and picks it up offering in a simple gesture.

“Take a bite, you’re dying to” only when she sees Kakashi’s intense gaze fixated on her hand does she realize she took the sweet with her right hand. She makes the motion to hide her arm but Kakashi quickly takes her hand in hers and takes a bite, her grey pupils, having trapped her own black ones, never leave them as she slowly chews and Obito can’t help the blush that spreads over her cheeks.

Kakashi doesn’t comment about her blush then, or the day after. And yet, much like their shared breakfasts, the following mornings comes to see her often feeding the pale blonde some of her sweet pastries –as if somehow the fact that they come from her fingers, makes them any less forbidden for a dancer. The blush doesn’t accompany her after the second time, but Obito finds herself fixated more and more in the soft rosy cheeks of her friend’s –once again she’s not sure if that’s the word she should use to describe Kakashi or what this strange development means- or the pearly depths of her eyes or more importantly, how pink and plump and _kissable_ her lips are.

 

It happens without any input from her brain. It’s a rather cold day, with snow and all, but they’ve decided to have their breakfast outside, if only to see the thousands of tiny white flakes that slowly cover the park in a sheet of sparkly whiteness. They are closer than they’ve been in a long time, bundling around the stove put in the terrace for the smokers that aren’t allowed inside. Obito is trapped in the frozen beauty of winter, it’s almost Christmas now, and somehow she’s not able to think of going by without Kakashi in the few, frantic weeks to come. She’s lived through a frenetic winter season riddled with special performances and she sort of understands, but after getting used to her presence again, solitude seems like a punishment she truly doesn’t deserve. She turns to Kakashi with something that tastes very much like desperation. But then she’s left breathless and subjugated as soon as her eyesight makes contact, all thoughts of winter and loneliness forgotten.

 Kakashi is looking directly at the snow, in this dim light her eyes seem to shimmer. There is a cutting wind that sweeps past them, the snowflakes swirling by. Kakashi closes her eyes but Obito finds herself unable to. When the sudden strike of wind passes, Obito still hasn’t looked away. Kakashi’s eyelids flutter open and she sees that a flake is left trapped in her feathery eyelashes.

They are closer than even before, harder as though it may be, she can count every single freckle in Kakashi’s face, and feels like suddenly all the air has been sucked from her lungs. Kakashi’s breath is warm over her lips and it makes her tremble. She’s not sure when her hands landed on Kakashi’s cheeks or when the blonde’s did the same on her own face, but she really doesn’t have any time to think about it, she notices a small tug and they are kissing. Kakashi’s soft, soft lips slowly drag over hers, her warm tongue swiping over them asking for permission, Obito doesn’t think she needs it, her mouth is already open in a half moan and from the moment she looked into the ballerina’s eyes she’s been trapped, unable to deny her anything. She notices then a small drop of water on her cheek and idly realizes the snowflake has melted.

 

After the kiss, the Christmas special season comes quicker than Obito is prepared for but for some reason they end up meeting even more. Even if it’s just a couple of crammed minutes, closer to the theater than she’s dared to approach in a long time, they still have time to look, very stupidly in Obito’s opinion, into each other’s eyes and just stare. Picking up a medium green tea with just a dash of soy milk to go, along with her coffee seems second nature after a few days and even in those she cannot truly approach Kakashi, just being able to see her is enough. Some days she feels a bit like a hormonal teenager, but then, in the few minutes they can steal, Kakashi always finds the way to surprise her and kiss her senseless  and although she’s not truly resisting, in those moments, most of the doubts disappear.

 

Then, since any semblance of happiness is too good for her, she thinks in a rather sarcastic manner with not a small amount of a bitterness coating, her leg starts to act up again. The day starts normally, she gets up, slightly overheated from the high heat she has to have in the house not to be in complete paralysis,  goes to take a shower, and as she’s exiting the bathroom, bravely avoiding all the mirrors in her vicinity, a whiplash-like pain shoots up her leg towards her waist. She falters and soon is looking at the carpet up close and personal.

For what could either be a few minutes or a few hours, Obito just lies there, her vision clouded by pain, her leg cramping uncontrollably, the nerves of her waist almost numb from the overload and her fingers twitching against the fluffy carpet as she fights to regain control of her thinking. When the pain subsides, barely, she manages to roll on her good side, although she doesn’t feel the pressure erasing, even slightly, in any way.

She doesn’t know how long she spends there, in her undies, with her already pained limbs progressively getting colder but at some point she must have passed out because when she opens her eyes again, she does to Kakashi’s worried face. There are tears in her eyes and her lips are moving but Obito can’t hear a thing. Everything starts to look as if covered by a dark mist. There is like wave of horrible noiselessness clogging her ears and she can barely make out Kakashi’s features through the pain. She tries to gulp some air, her mouth gaping like a fish’s, but can’t manage to, because Kakashi’s here somehow, watching all the parts of her Obito despises, all the parts that are just wrong and she can’t stand it. Desperate, Obito closes her eyes, not wanting to see the pity reflected in the face she’s so grown to love. She _has_ to breath, she thinks or hears, Obito is not sure.

Obito struggles with the fear as the noiselessness that invaded her eardrums dissipates and only her gagging and gasping remain. Her body twitches painfully and she can vaguely feel a warm torso pressed against her back. Soft words intersperse with her labored breathing until Obito can only concentrate in them. She doesn’t understand, but the voice, the warmth is enough. Cool air burns her lungs, but just a she’s about to open her eyes and confront the disaster, she feels a prickle in her arm and everything goes black abruptly.

 

She wakes up hours later, to the image of a blurry, empty syringe on the pillow. She blinks a couple of times until the  syringe stops moving around and distorting and then, as she tries to move, there is a rustle on the bed by her side and as she turns, surprisingly without pain, she can see Kakashi half perched on the mattress, barely hanging from her most uncomfortable chair. Her white blonde hair spills over the bed and arms. Obito wants to rouse her, otherwise she’ll cramp in that position. Obito wants to ask what she’s doing here and how she found out where her apartment is first, but as with most of the strange things in her life, she assumes it’s Madara’s fault.  This time though, she doesn’t care as much as she should. Somehow, seeing that Kakashi is still here makes the doubts subside.

Obito then reaches out across the sheets but just in that moment realizes her arm, her entire right side is uncovered and a wave of nausea rolls over her, she can’t believe Kakashi saw all that. Obito manages to somehow jump off the bed and into the bathroom, the bile reverberating in her throat as she bends over the sink, she hadn’t have the opportunity to eat anything before she collapsed, but that doesn’t stop the gagging. She coughs up bile and spit onto the sink, shaking until a hand settles itself in her face, brushing away her bangs and taking a hold of her feverish forehead. She retches one last time and slowly calms when Kakashi’s other hand rubs against her back, over scar tissue and skin alike. Kakashi drags her into her arms, cleaning her chin and lips and opening the faucet to clean the sink as well.

She takes her into the room, although Obito doesn’t need help walking, she’s grateful for the hand still on her back. Obito sits on the bed as Kakashi takes her previous position on the most uncomfortable chair in the room. She doesn’t know if the ballerina is looking at her, but Obito can’t make herself look up. Ugly shame crawls inside her, she’s not sure why because empirically she knows it’s not her fault but it still makes her feel inadequate.

The silence stretches around them, uncomfortable and accusatory. Thoughts flash through her mind, too quick to be followed. There are so many things she wants to say and just doesn’t know how…

 

“What am I to you?” Kakashi’s voice is neither harsh nor demanding when she breaks their silence, but her calm tone only makes it worse. She hates the question knowing that no matter how little time has gone by since that first kiss, Kakashi already means the world to her. Obito looks desperately around her realizing there is nowhere to hide. Her breath comes faster, ragged, she’s having problems filling her lungs and the edge of her vision becomes blurry again.

Then Kakashi’s slender fingers take hold of her face, each hand bracketing her cheeks, and everything suddenly looks clear again, sharper than it’s been in a long time and she can breathe once more.

“What am I to you” repeats Kakashi calmly; it’s less of a question than before.

Obito can’t think about the proper thing to say, she racks her brains trying to find it until suddenly, looking up into Kakashi’s eyes, she realizes she’s known all along.

“Home” She whispers “You are my home”

Kakashi throws herself at her then, she holds her so tight Obito thinks she might get bruises, but she hugs back just as hard so there is no problem at all. Kakashi might be crying she realizes when her delicate shoulders shake with feeling. It doesn’t matter, she’s crying too.

**Author's Note:**

> R&R


End file.
